Dangerous Upshots
by Comidia Del Arte
Summary: Fifka Eloi Beamount knows her kind have been hated since before WWII, but mass genocide is another matter. After the death of her parents, she goes after Nazis with a vengeance. At 15 she kills for the first time. By the age of 19 she is a professional
1. Once Upon a Time in Nazi occupied France

Owls, they are graceful, they are silent, and they are hunters. Their wings sweep the ground like hushed shadows. The cries they emit in the night air are high and ghost like. Nature's phantoms, natures own snipers. I suppose that is why the Germans gave me such a name, so simple, yet dangerous. Die Eule or Die Eule Zigeuner if you favor the formality.

The name seems fitting, I basically live in the trees, coming down to carry away those Nazi fuckers….Taking them away and sending them back without eyes, or maybe missing a few limbs. Give or take, I enjoy the creativity of my job. I also get a rush from watching those same fuckers being executed for not falling under the so called category of perfection. Hitler hated more than the Jews. Oh, he loathed my people just as much, Gypsies with their strange customs and dark complexions. We are quite the oddities.

We Romania have suffered injustice since first entering European territory; we were accustomed to the abuse. Mass genocide was a different matter completely though. I'm lucky, unlike so many of my people I have the fortuity to know how to read and write. It gives me the opportunity to document my life while skirting around Nazi occupied France; it also gives me the chance to tell you of my time with the Basterds.

I was working with a small platoon of the usual undesirables, a couple Jews and what I can only assume was a lesbian. Of course in those days homosexuals were still considered disgusting, personally I didn't care and still don't care one way or the other. We were all french, all brothers and sisters, considered to be garbage by the shit eating Nazis.

We were not sent in by the military, I was the only one who had some knowledge of the inner workings of the French military; because my father was a Connell. He was murdered during the Nazi takeover of our fair country. Shot right in the head, my mother went with him due to her dark complexion. She was the gypsy of the family. With caramel skin, jet black hair, and liquid amber eyes. Every single part of her was considered inhuman.

I inherited her dangerous flesh and hair, but my eyes were the safe blue of my father's. Four years ago when the Nazis first occupied France, they came for us. Father wanted to leave for Britain during the battle of Dunkirk, mother refused, saying we couldn't abandon our home. It was a part of us. So he bent to her pleas, and we remained for a several months.

But the town we lived in gossiped about papa's military ties, his gypsy wife, and heathen child. It didn't take long for those fuckers to come for us. I was out playing in the fields when mama spotted their trucks coming up over the hills.

I don't know what made papa think he could reason with them, he had bred with a gypsy and had a child by one. There was no mercy for our kind, only punishment. I knew what would come, but it took every single little breath out of me when they shot my parents dead.

Their eyes were wide with shock, staring out at me. My questioning cries echoed "Mama?... Papa?"

They looked for me, those Nazi shits, they searched high and low. Papa made sure I was far away before they even reached the house. I watched their deaths from the trees, weeping into the bark of an old oak.

I couldn't even go to them, look on them one last time; I couldn't even bury them properly. Since then I've been skirting in the shadows, putting together a group of killers, made up of used to be farmers and other kinds of civilians. I taught every single one of them all that they know.

Before my parents' murders the only thing I ever shot was a deer, I'd never killed anyone. But a month after my only family's death I shot two Nazis in the face. After that I spent an entire night in shock, rocking back and forth, cradling my stolen Nazi rifle. I was only 15 at the time, still very young, and still unaccustomed to violence.

So here I am now, in a tree, on the very edge of the limbs…Waiting, watching. The darkness is like a suffocating blanket. It doesn't mute the noise coming from a few paces under and ahead of my position. My prey was loud and obnoxious, and possibly drunk. One of the men had left to go take a piss in the bushes, he would be passing below me in a few minutes, when he did I would take him out with my tranquilizer gun.

I carry two guns with me, one was a Mauser K98k, and the second was a modified tranquilizer gun. I used to carry a Lee-Enfield No 4 Mk I (T). Sadly that little baby became lost to me somewhere near Rennes; I took a wrong turn and ended up walking right into a camp of Nazis. Losing that rifle was a huge blow; it was the last thing of my father. But the gaining of the Mauser was enough to restore some of the lost pride. That rifle was my first experience of the spoils of war.


	2. The Owl

Seeing the soldier entering closer into my range, I smiled, and took aim. The whistle of the trank was music to my ears. I hit the fucker square in the chest. The serum took immediate effect, leaving the solider no time to cry for help. Even from my position far above, I could see that boy's wide eyed look of fear. He knew what was coming; he knew that he would be spending the rest of the night under the knife of the Owl. Smirking, I shouldered my rifle and tranquilizer, and as quite as any shadow I darted down the tree. Landing feet first in front of my victim, I grabbed him by his uniformed shoulder and slung him across my back. With the noise of the oblivious Germans behind me, I carried their comrade away. Chuckling at the thought of the nasty surprise they were in for when morning would break the night.

"Her real name is Fifka Eloi Beaumont, her mother was a gyppo and her father was a french colonel. Fuckin Nazis came for them after Dunkirk, never found her. Until, one of her victims was able to produce a detailed drawing of her."

Aldo Rain folded up the piece of paper, and looked over at his most trusted staff sergeant, Donny Donowitz, also known as the Bear Jew. Donny eyed his commanding officer; his eyebrows seemed to have disappeared from his forehead. "I thought you said the lady blinds em?"

The Apache smirked. "She takes anythin she wants… Heard a rumor she took this one sucker's… Well…"

Donny gaped. "Fuck a duck! Why?"

Aldo starred at the sketch of their soon to be new recruit. "Why else? Them Krauts don't like cripples any more than gypsies or Jews."

The Bear Jew stared at the road, watching it pass from under the truck. Aldo continued his explanation. "She does it to fuck with their minds, if y'all are missing a leg, you get shot full of led."

Leaving Donny to think about the crazy gypsy bitch, Aldo got up and tapped on the glass window that separated the cab from the rest of the truck. "Stiglitz, you see anything?"

The rouge German soldier shook his head. At the moment his main objective was act the part of a Nazi, something he knew how to do. Donny called to Rain. "Remind me again why we're playing Nazi soldiers?"

Aldo took a seat. "Cause Ms. Owl Gypsy comes out for the Nazis, no one else."

Donowitz smirked. "Don't seem fair at all." He looked at the intercepted drawing. "Pretty thing like that should aim higher than those Fuckin Krauts."

The comment earned a chuckle from the Lieutenant. "Well, let's hope she takes the bait." No sooner were the words out of his mouth, the truck suddenly swerved, the tires had been spiked. "Well, well! Speak of the devil!"

The Basterds managed to claw their way out of the broken truck. Once they managed to regain a sense of composure, they got up. "You do realize pretending to be Nazis can cause some serious repercussions?"

The voice rang clearly, obviously female. Donny shook his head, he was royally pissed off. Looking up, he sneered. He dark set eyes locked with a pair of beautiful blues. Aldo finally spoke. "I take it you're The Owl."

The woman's eyes jumped from Donny. She smirked, "You take it right, and I assume you're all Americans?"

Within a second the easy going calm left her. Fifka found Stiglitz. "Well! Look at this, Americans working with a Nazi" giving each Basterd a careful once over she let out a quick bird like whistle. The sound of several blows to the head breathed life into the silent forest. Fifka surveyed her captives. Looking to the people behind them she gave her orders. "Relieve them of any harmful objects, tie them up and take them to camp."

Not giving the scene a second glance, she walked over to the demolished truck. It miraculously had not caught fire. 'Good' she thought 'a fire would draw attention, by the time anyone sees it, we'll be long gone.' Noticing a few straw papers, she knelt down and retrieved them. Her eyes widened with shock, it was a sketch of her, looking through the other papers, and she found her old papers. They were rubberstamped and also looked as if they had been processed.

Fifka stood papers in hand. So, she was finally on the Furor's hit list. A small but cruel smile brightened her features "how fortuitous." Still smiling, she folded the mangled papers, and hid them away in her breast pocket. Without another look at the truck, Fifka disappeared into the forest, intent on returning to camp. They would move out ahead of schedule, with hostages it would take longer for the preparations to be made. She had a friend who lived 30 clicks from their current location. If her calculations were correct, her soldiers would be enjoying real beds by tomorrow evening.


	3. Ropes and Beef Stew

The hostages remained unconscious till nightfall; Fifka assumed it was the scent of beef stew that stirred them. First to wake was the one with the heavy southern accent and a thin mustache. Second to come to was the one who was wielding the baseball bat earlier.

Taking notice of their movements, Fifka stood up, her bowl of stew in hand. "Well, it seems Sleeping Beauty has awakened…" She said this first to Donny, but then she noticed Aldo. Laughing past a mouthful of beef and potatoes, she corrected herself. "Make that Sleeping Beauties!"

Some of the chewed food smacked Aldo in the face. Sneering he jabbed. "I thought you French gals were all manners?"

Fifka paused, and then knelt down. "I thought you rednecks were all drunken fuckers, but I suppose not all stereotypes are politically correct, no?"

Donny smirked. "That's some nice English." Fifka looked at him, and spooned herself some more stew. "Unlike you idiot Americans, I know at least 4 languages, yours, french, germen, and a little bit of my mother's old language."

Returning to her full height, Fifka handed her now empty bowl over to a woman known as Blanche. "So, can you explain these to me?" With a flourish she extracted the documents she had found. Tossing them on the ground in front of Aldo, "Why would a bunch of filthy Americans come all the way out here to look for this?"

Donny and Aldo looked at the papers. The Apache was the first to ask the question. "Haven't you heard o us?" Fifka shrugged. "Can't say that I have mon mimi." Donny flinched at what he guessed was a pet name; mostly due to the laughter coming from the people who were congregated around the fire, only a few feet away. Aldo scowled. "Hell does that mean?"

Fifka winked. "It means pussycat."

Donny snarled. God, this woman was a bitch. Shaking off the insulting term of endearment, Aldo gave the usual Basterd introduction. "We're in the killin Nazi business, and honey business is a boomin!"

Fifka clutched her stomach, laughing like a mad woman. It was actually quite terrifying. "Ha ha, well I recommend not being captured. I do hope this isn't a weekly thing for you shit heads."

Her eyes landed on Donny. "So, what was with the club mon chere? You plan to play some baseball during war?" Glaring, Donny spat on the ground in front of Fifka. "I beat Nazi heads in with it."

Fifka smirked, turning she looked at her comrades. "What do you think my darlings, shall we let them free?"


	4. Fag Ends and Fire Pits

Waiting for a reply, she pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her coat pocket. Holding it to her lips, she took one of fags between in her teeth and pulled it out from among its fellows. Within a second it was alive and feeding her the sweet smolder of nicotine. Such a simple habit managed to relax her, causing all the tension and minor insanity to shrink away, leaving room for cold calculation. Smiling, Fifika rolled her head back allowing tendrils of smoke to slowly curl out from her lips.

Eyes half lidded she returned her attention to the Basterds. "Seeing that my comrades have nothing to say …. I think we should let you gentlemen go. After all I can't kill the men who inspired me to use a Nazis body as a living canvas." At this she laughed. "Blanche! If you would please cut them loose, and invite them to dine with us."

Taking another drag from her cigarette, Fifika turned her back on the Basterds and returned to the warmth of the bonfire. As she took her place among her followers, Fifika gave her orders. "Abner, would you be so kind to ladle some stew into bowls for our guests?"

The young French Jew looked up from cleaning his bloodied knife. In the iridescent glow of the fire, his striking blue eyes shined through the lenses of his cracked glasses. Nodding, he put down the knife and took up the ladle.

Looking toward the Basterds, who were all conscious and still at a distance, she smirked "Peur?" Seeing their confusion, she asked the question in English. "Scared?"

That simple inquiry was enough to challenge the American lieutenant. I had already pushed his buttons enough with my pretending to not know who the 'Basterds' were. In fact I had been mistaken many times for a 'Basterd,' but after a while the Krauts realized that there was a big difference between myself and these Americans. Un, I was a lady, deux, I was a gypsy not a Jew, and trois; the Basterds had no known women in their ranks.

Watching them sit down, I took a last drag from my cigarette and threw it into the fire. Once they were settled, I played happy hostess and passed around bowls of hot beef stew. Pulling out another cigarette, I lit up. Too my men, it was obvious I was on edge. I only smoked after a kill to calm my nerves. But on that night in particular, I smoked every last cigarette on my person.

The awkward silence lasted for quite a while; all anyone did was chew the rubbery beef bits in the watery broth. We were on our last leg of food rations; which was the main reason why we were headed to the nearest town. Normally we didn't come so far into the outskirts of Nazi occupied France. But we had just returned from escorting a family of Jews into the Allies territory. So, now were heading back into the fray.

When we had reached the borderline of the free part of France, I ended up losing several of my men, most of them Jews. The only two left was the ever quiet Abner, and his younger brother Eli. I believe Abner remained at my side due to the feelings he harbored for me, I do admit that I had a certain fondness for him, and at times I found myself experiencing the feeling of butterflies in my stomach. In the end I dismissed my thoughts as a hunger for male contact. I suppose that's natural for my body to feel that way, after all if the war had never happened I would have been living the life of a dutiful house wife.

With a smirk, I flicked my last cigarette into the dying embers of the fire. Getting to my feet, I gained the attention of my men; with it I gave them their orders. "Hand over everything you salvaged from the wreck as well as the items we confiscated." They nodded, looking at Raine, I offered him my hand. "Join me in my tent Lieutenant?"

Glaring at my hand, he took it none the less. Glancing at Abner and Eli, I gave a swift nod. Despite the fact that these men were against Nazis, I still did not trust them. Killing people the way they did was never good on the brain, even I suffered the minor repercussions of insanity due to my occupation.


	5. Tarot Readings

Lieutenant Raine followed me to my tent. Able and Eli stood just outside, as an extra precaution. Removing my heavy jacket, I took a seat on the ground, I gestured for Raine to do the same. He eyed me, looking down I noticed that I was still wearing my ammo belts. Complete with a shoulder strap of bullets, and my waist was adorned with my special formula of tranquilizer darts. I was also wearing two french issued fighting knives on either of my thighs. Raine stared at them for a second. "At times, if one wants to take down a Kraut, you need to get up close and personal."

Raine was taking in every inch of the tent. To anyone, he would have looked relaxed, nonchalant even. But after watching his eyes for a few moments, you could see how on edge he really was. They rested on my rucksack, which was open; displaying a wicked looking blood encrusted butcher knife.

Smirking, I reached for it and began the process of cleaning it. I would not have my art dirtied by soiled tools "So, any particular reason as to why you had my old identification papers? Because I must confess, the suspense is killing me."

Raine nodded. "Word reached us in the deeper parts of France about you….My men and I am huge fans of your work."

Chuckling, I waved the now clean butcher knife. Wagging it at him, I chastised. "Flattery will get you nowhere Mr. Raine. I'm sure most ladies go weak kneed at those kinds of compliments… But I'm a complicated woman. It takes more than a box of chocolates and other lovey dovey shit to win me over."

Aldo smirked, finding the lady's rant rather amusing. Seeing the Lieutenant's amusement, Fifika tossed her butcher knife into the air, catching the handle. Staring pensively at her reflection in the now glittering blade, her eyes darted to look at Aldo. "You see Lieutenant, I have my own methods. As do my men. We may have very similar ideals, but we are proud Frenchmen. We are here to liberate our homeland from Hitler. As a leader I can understand the pain of my men, because our losses in this 'Great War' go hand in hand. But you, you were sent here by the army. You are not even Jewish, you have no personal stake in this War. I wonder why you come here to lead these men." Pausing, Fifika stared into the knife, pursing her lips. She went on. "Some say you like to kill, that you wanted to lead this platoon to satisfy your unnatural hunger for blood. My men will be hesitant in following orders from you for that particular reason, because you do not understand the pain of watching your loved ones die in front of your eyes. However, my hatred runs deep enough, to the point where I don't care who is giving me orders. All I want is to kill the monsters who took everything from me…." Her eyes flitted up to meets Raine's. "Do you understand?"

Lieutenant Raine stared at the Frenchwoman; she was so still and careful. Finally, turning her full attention to Aldo, Fifika explained. "I am down to only three people in my unit; we lost a couple to an ambush a few months back. And four of the remaining seven left us at the border."

Seeing what the gypsy meant Aldo questioned. "You don't expect your men to stay with you?"

At this, she nodded. "Blanche is starting to feel the full effects of murder. Despite the fact that our killing is for a good cause, she still views it as murder. She hides it well, but she was never meant for this life. I plan to leave her when we stock up on our food rations tomorrow night. She is able to hide what she is."

The American raised his eyebrow. "And what is she, exactly?"

Smirking, Fifika cocked her head to the side "A lady who prefers a cunt to a cock." Aldo blanked for a moment. "Ya'll mean a bush banger?" Fifika brushed a stray loc of hair from her face, her eyes glittered with laughter. "Never heard that term before, but yes she is a lesbian. She joined us a year ago after someone let something slip in her town. I doubt anyone remembers her."

Aldo chuckled. "Shame, the gal's a looker." At this Fifika's eyes hardened. "If any your men so much as touch her, I'll introduce them to the business end of knife."

The Lieutenant stared, a look of disappointment in his eyes "You a bush banger too?" Fifika raised an eyebrow. "That is a personal question, and I'd rather not answer it. Now back to the matter at hand. If you want me to join you're unit, you have to take the Jew Brothers as well, I don't doubt that somewhere along the way, they will branch off, but for the time being they are killing machines and they are itching to do some of your so called 'scalping.'"

Aldo nodded. "Sorry to say, but we only have room for one. There is nothing terrifying about the others."

At this Fifika leaned back. "You haven't seen Able at his sickest, the glasses and skinny demeanor may throw you off. But when he's butchering some Nazi fuck, he's an animal."

The American nodded. "And his brother, what does he do?"

Sighing, the gypsy rubbed her eyes. "He is our medic, and a tad squeamish about killing. We needed him for guiding families out of occupied France."

Aldo scrunched his eyebrows in thought. "Sorry, girlie but its pointless having two kids along with us if they're gonna leave later."

Fifika shrugged. "I had a feeling you'd say that." Raine grinned derisively. "Did you read your tarot cards or some kind of shit?"

His comment received a level glare from the gypsy. "Not all gypsies are interested in that fairytale bunkum crap." That said, she let a shrill whistle pass her lips. Able and Eli came into the tent. Aldo glared at her. She raised an eyebrow. "They're not going to do anything except escort you back to your men. This is my tent after all, and I need to think. You're effects should be by the fire, along with all the things my men salvaged from the truck."

Nodding her head to the Jew Brothers, she watched as the Lieutenant exited her tent. Looking at her rucksack, she sheathed the butcher knife and put it away. Afterward she dug her hands into the deeper parts of the bag. She pulled out a medium golden draw string bag. Inside sat a deck of Tarot cards. Pulling them from the bag, the cards were shown to be worn with the edges nibbled off my various bugs.

Silently, Fifika shuffled the cards in her hands, placing them on the ground in front of her folded legs. Flipping them over to reveal the tattered images of symbolic animals, people and objects, Fifika's eyes darted over the cards carefully. It looked as if she was reading the intricate words of a lengthy novel. Her eyebrows furrowed for a moment as she focused her attention on the last card.

Sighing, she picked up each card gently, kissed the face of each of them, and returned them to their place in the pouch. Restoring the pouch to its hiding place Fifika got up, before exiting the tent, she twisted her torso around, receiving a rather satisfying crackle from her back as she did so. Stretching her arms for a moment, she left her tent. Her decision made, and her mind as calm as placid lake.


	6. Impulses to Ravish

Fifika walked through camp, shouldering her Mauser, and her gloved fingers delicately played the handles of her fighting knives. Once she managed to gain some control of the rather stubborn rifle, she proceeded to pull hair out of it tight bun. A curtain of black fell down to just bellow Fifika's shoulders. The wind picked up as she passed the Basterds, who were huddled by the dying fire pit. Blanche and the boys had been kind enough to provide them with what little comfort the group had. Before the Basterds had fallen into their laps, the group had been carrying the barest minimum.

The gypsy could hear the mumbling of their guests as she passed them by. But she didn't care enough to listen. Fifika had better things to do, and she needed to stay awake. After a few minutes of walking, she reached the outer limits of the camp. She found Blanche with ease, who had taken up watch on the bow of a tree. A simple touch of the shoulder and a nod of the head relieved the gaunt girl from her post. Blanche was about to return to camp, before she could Fifika grabbed her shoulder. "Sleep in my tent tonight, those men haven't seen a woman for months, they are not to be trusted."

She starred into her leader's ice cold eyes. Fifika studied the other female. Blanche was a mere girl, so innocent, and yet so corrupt and dead. Giving her a reassuring smile, Fifika relinquished her grip, and Blanche disappeared through the trees to the light of camp. Sighing, the gypsy turned and set her eyes forward, taking her rifle from her shoulder, she held it, ready to fire if it was required of her.

Back at camp, the Basterds eyed the outer limits of the clearing. The shuffling of branches and leaves could be heard. Within a couple minutes, Blanche appeared before them. They all looked on with interest, despite their Lieutenant's clarification of the girl's sexual preferences. The Basterds didn't care, to a starving man; a piece of meat was a piece of meat. The men were starving for more than a simple cut of meat.

None of them acted on their impulses, all they could do was gawk. Their jaws hit the ground when Blanche walked into Fifika's tent. To say that the men were disappointed would have been a gross understatement. The Basterds had not felt the touch of a woman for months, and when two french girls were dropped into their lap, as if by divine providence. It turned out that not only were they homo, but they were sleeping together. Every single one of the men in Aldo's unit cursed God for his supposed sick sense of humor.

Chewing his lower lip, Aldo glanced out toward the woods. "Donny, Utivich, Kagan! Go keep watch!"

The Bear Jew turned away from where Blanche had disappeared. "Huh?"

Rolling his eyes, the Lieutenant said. "Are ya stupid er something? Go keep watch, all of ya!"

Shrugging, the Bear Jew got up and left the camp, going in the direction Blanche just came from; while Utivich and Kagan went in different directions. To the Basterds it seemed bizarre that their host only had one person keeping watch. But before their arrival, Fifika, Abner, Blanche and Eli were not worried about being ambushed. They were a small group, and therefore did not attract as much attention as the eleven or so Basterds.

It wasn't long until Donny came to the spot where Fifika supposedly was. To his surprise he did not find her. Feeling something graze the top of his head, he spun around and aimed his gun upward. Fifika stared down at him, a mild look of amusement dancing in her eyes. "Someone's jumpy."

Her voiced was laced with humor. The Bear Jew glared up at her "Any particular reason why you're in a fucking tree?"

The gypsy pulled a thoughtful look, and then shrugged. "Not really."

Backing up slightly to get a better look at her, Donny raised an eyebrow. "Planning to come down anytime soon?"

Smirking, Fifika turned slightly and rested her back against the tree. "Planning on telling why you're away from your buddies."

Gripping his gun, Donny replied. "I was ordered to help keep watch."

Nodding, Fifika stood up and balanced carefully on the branch. Checking for a good place to land, she leapt from the tree. Landing feet first in a crouched position, she looked up at Donny. He toward over her 5'7 self, the man was pretty fucking tall. 'No wonder the Nazis think he's a Golem.'

Fifika's staring earned her a smirk from Donowitz. "See something ya like?"

Blinking a couple times, her lips curved into a flirtatious smile. "I've been in the forest a long time dearest, my standards are low."

Donny raised an eyebrow. "So you ain't a bush banger? Fifika rolled her eyes, and looked outward toward the forest. "Again with that term…. What makes you think that I am?"

The Bear Jew was a bit taken back by how cold and un-insulted she seemed. "The other woman went into you're tent." At this, the gypsy chuckled. "I ordered her to take my tent for the night."

Donny glanced at her. "Why?" Pushing a strand of hair from her line of vision, Fifika fixed him with a level stare. "Simple, you men haven't seen a woman for months. All thoughts and morals will be dictated by your…" At this she glanced down at Donny's crotch and nodded. "'Other' head" Donowitz snarled. Fifika laughed, turning her eyes forward. "So defensive, I'm only stating a simple fact. Men can't control their urges, unlike woman. For example, I confess that you are semi attractive and I have the urge to jump you. But you don't see me acting on such a foolish impulse."

The Bear Jew's eyes widened, he stared at her. "What?" She seemed to be coming out of a deep thought and replied. "What?" He stared at her, finally Fifika rolled her eyes. "Shouldn't you be patrolling, instead implying that you want to ravish me."

Donny blinked. "I never said that!" Fifika didn't look at him "Emphasis on 'implying' darling." He glared at her; God the woman was infuriating and confusing. Turning he walked away, intending to keep watch as far away from Beaumont as possible. She was an oddity; it wouldn't surprise Donny if she had been deemed insane by some doctor. But, he supposed that being a little mad was a requirement in her line of work. There was a reason why Beaumont had a nickname, she had earned it.

Coming to a stop in a rather lonely part of the forest, Donny stared out into the distant his gun in hand, and ready to fire at the sound of an ambush.


End file.
